


Five Kisses

by JazzRaft



Series: Wicked Games [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:22:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9482639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: He knew the second she flipped up her visor and smiled at him in that deplorable, deprecating manner that he would regret ever having asked Aranea Highwind for her help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/155608870967/22-ravusaranea-%CF%89) for #22 in [this prompt post.](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/155537400382/askfic-kiss-meme)

“I need you to” - Ravus gulped down his revile and shuddered, powering through the rest of the sentence – “do something for me.”

He knew the second she flipped up her visor and smiled at him in that deplorable, deprecating manner that he would regret ever having asked Aranea Highwind for her help.

“What’s in it for me?”

“You don’t even know what ‘it’ is, yet.”

“If the price is right, it doesn’t matter what it is.”

She set her lance to the side and dismissed her sparring partner, giving Ravus her full attention. The commander almost wished she would settle for giving half, maybe even a quarter of her attention instead. Maybe he could just get a quick grunt of yes or no and be done with it that way, but he’d made the mistake of intriguing her. Now he was doomed.

“I’ll pour another ten thousand gil into whatever the Empire is paying you,” he said, resigned.

“Mmmm… Nah.”

Ravus balked, but recovered himself before she could jump on the lapse of weakness. He thought his offer was reasonable enough without being too outrageous. A decent bargain for the work he wanted done. If she thought she could swindle him out of every last coin in his pocket, then she had another thing coming.

“The price isn’t up for negotiation.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I have a counter-offer. And it won’t cost you a chip of gil.”

Ravus immediately stepped back, putting a safe distance between him and her. This was a trap. He didn’t know how, but it was, he was sure of it. The devious twist of her lips assured him of it. No one who wasn’t out to get something of personal gain would forfeit the sum he’d presented. She wanted something from him, and that was far more dangerous than an empty bank account.

“Ten thousand gil,” he insisted.

“Ten kisses.”

She took a big step towards him and thank the Gods that they were the only two people present because if anyone else saw the way he scrambled away like a startled chocobo, that would have been the end of his reputation in the Niflheim army. The delight in her smile was sinister, drinking in the fear that he could only pretend to have control over like it was a fine, aged wine.

“From here on until one of us dies, can be issued at any moment, and by either one of us. On the lips. Tongue optional. No fondling the goods.”

“Twenty thousand,” he upped the offer, clearing his throat to kill the weird wheeze that permeated his voice.

“Five. Final offer.”

Why was he letting her do this to him? He was her commanding officer, she should be beholden to _his_ orders, not the other way around. She didn’t exhibit this kind of insubordination with any of her other superiors. Why him? Why was he going to let her get her way, _Gods be damned_ …

“Fine.”

Her smile brimmed with unsurprised satisfaction. “Pleasure doing business with you, High Commander.” She pecked a kiss onto his stiff lips. “That’s one. Now, what’s this job you need doing?”

It was _weeks_ until she assaulted him with the next one. He’d nearly _forgotten_ about the arrangement, it had been so long. But, he supposed that was all part of the genius of her little scheme. Aranea relished in human suffering – or, at least, _his_ suffering. What could he have possibly done to deserve this?

“Would you like me to write you a list?”

Why, oh _why_ did it have to be Ardyn that found out about it? Why, _Astrals above,_ did Aranea have to _ensure_ that it was the chancellor who knew first? Why did Ravus need to be delivering that innocuous report to him on the amount of Magitek troopers being stationed to the Western-most region of Duscae? And _why_ did Aranea have to happen down that very same hallway, saunter her way between him and the chancellor, and, _right in front of him,_ grab Ravus by the front of his coat and slam his lips down on hers? He nearly toppled the both of them when he stumbled from how fiercely she tugged down on him. And this wasn’t a quick tap on the lips oh _no_ she dragged this one on… and _on_. Despite his muffled protests she didn’t release him for what felt like an eternity. When she finally did, their lips parted with a loud smack, she set him back onto his feet, smoothed out the fist-shaped wrinkles her gauntlets left in his coat, and continued her sojourn down the hall.

“Three left,” she chirped and was gone.

Ravus just stood there, stiff as a board and steaming. And Ardyn stared not two feet away from him, arms frozen mid whatever-gesture he’d been making, eyes just wide enough to indicate shock, but not alarm. They must have looked like a pair of comical garden statues, standing there for an incalculable measure of time well after a man of position would have excused himself from the other’s company. Finally, Ardyn’s face cracked into a tiny smile and that was all the motivator Ravus needed to throw the report at him and storm away.

If he thought he was prepared for the next one…

A few days later and he was on edge, peering around corners, bolting across open spaces where she could drop from the sky at any moment. He was expecting it to be out of nowhere, in front of someone important, maybe even in the sanctity of his own bedroom when he was coming out of the shower or something. He was expecting it to be just as – if not more – humiliating than the last one… and she did not disappoint him.

Practice dueling. Him against about four opponents, each imitating the styles and weapons used by Noctis and his little tagalongs. At any moment, he could be ordered to seize the whole bunch of them, and he was determined to be prepared. He thought he was doing rather well, parrying swords great and broad, dodging pretend bullets with ease, locking and unlocking with twin daggers. He was feeling pretty damn proud of himself until a sharp, suggestive whistle trumpeted from behind him. His four sparring partners turned to look, but Ravus kept his back to her, bristling like a cat with its fur rubbed the wrong way.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“I like to watch,” she purred. “Doin’ a pretty nice job out there, High Commander. I think you deserve a reward.”

The implicit order in her voice forced him to turn around and face her, every muscle in his body coiled into knots. She smirked and beckoned with a single finger. His blood was simmering in his ears and for a second, he thought he could refuse. He could just stand there, melding his boots to the floor, and draw a line in the sand. What could she do to make him obey? Flip her hair and cock her head to the side, that’s what she could do. How in the hell did that work? He asked himself this as he approached her, moving like a man headed to the gallows.

While not quite as violent as the last one, the metallic taste of her lips was no less biting. “Keep up the good work,” she told him, patting his cheek before marching away. He felt his sparring partners staring at him, a million questions ready to tumble off their tongues. Ravus silenced them all with a roar of dismissal.

It was a month until the next one… Maybe… He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t been counting anymore. It had become such a triviality beneath the tragedy that had befallen him.

His sister was dead. And he was lost. He sat in his room, in the dark, replaying the newscast he’d just turned off in his head.

Aranea let herself in. She didn’t knock. He didn’t look at her. Her boots appeared where his gaze was set on the floor and then her knees as she crouched in front of him. She gave his shoulder a light shove, trying to get his attention. When that didn’t work, she bumped his chin up to force his eyes to look at her. While he might have been looking at her, he didn’t really see her. She clicked her tongue inside her cheek and nodded to herself, deciding on something inside her head.

“Quit moping, keep hoping,” she said, staring pointedly into his eyes, forcing them to focus on her. “When things go bad, the easiest thing to do is let them stomp on ya, but if you keep hoping that they stop, eventually, you don’t feel it anymore.”

“What hope?” Ravus said, not even recognizing the ragged sound of his own voice. “All of my hopes died with Luna.”

He did look at her then, a small, insignificant part of him eager for her to contradict him; for her to prove that there was still something left for him to rest his hopes upon. He wasn’t sure if the kiss was an answer or just a comfort, but he was grateful for it either way. It was short and chaste and her next words made it into an entreaty more than anything else.

“You’ve gotta get outta here. The Empire’s not right anymore. There’s a seat in the cockpit for you if you wanna come…”

“You’re leaving?”

She pursed her lips, considering his expression. He couldn’t imagine what it must have looked like. “Submitted my resignation this morning,” she said. “I’ll be outta this insane asylum before dawn.”

She watched him for a moment, pale green eyes keen and searching. He felt the strangest shape form on his lips. He thought it felt like a smile. He brushed his knuckles against her jaw and kissed her again. Longer this time. When he pulled away there was a cold clarity in her eyes. Unhappy, but resigned to his decision. Aranea folded back to her feet and pressed a hand into his shoulder.

“You’ve been a good friend, Ravus.”

“You as well, Aranea.”

She was gone before the morning came. And he was dead before the month was out.


End file.
